Title: Lifelike
Author: darkling59
Fandom: Bleach
Date: 8/12/2013
Disclaimer: Bleach and all associated characters, settings, concepts, etc within this story do not belong to me. Character spellings will attempt to follow those on the Bleach wikia.
Summary: The arrancar who survive the Winter War are frozen into stone stasis for safe transport to soul society in order to stand trial for their crimes. Unfortunately for them, there is no Central 46 to pass judgment yet. Until that changes, they are forced to remain in suspended animation, able to see and hear but not move or speak and treated more like objects than living (undead) beings.
Warnings: Transformation. Petrification. Um…weirdness? I'm honestly not sure what possessed me to write this beyond 2am, too much time on the internet, and depression. I also watched 'Don't hug me I'm scared' and nostalgia-researched Gargoyles. So...be warned.
Judge & Jury
Being a statue was not as reprehensible as Starrk might have thought prior to being transformed.
At the time of his transformation, he was badly wounded and barely conscious. When the shinigami began to chant and their kido floated him in the air, he'd been sure he was going to die. Instead, the energy condensed around him in layer upon layer of grey power-binding energy, sealing him within a cocoon of fine, skin-tight sheets, each one stronger than steel and more impenetrable than sekkisekki stone. Within minutes, he was bound in place and completely helpless. Two more chants completely cemented the restraints and after the shinigami checked and re-checked his power levels to make sure he could not break free, a final spell transformed the appearance from translucent reiatsu into solid white stone and (although he didn't know it at the time) made the effects self-sustaining and permanent.
Following the last incantation, the sense of being confined faded into a strange floating sensation. Everything about his body just...stopped. He was wide awake and able to see what was going on, but everything else was frozen beyond his control. He watched, forcibly mute and unable to move, as the kido casters came up and ran their hands over their handiwork, knocking and prodding as if he truly were just a carved rock.
He went from looking like a man contained within a cloud of energy to a particularly well-made marble statue.
"Is it done?"
Apparently he could still hear. Good to know.
"Yes, Kyoraku-taicho." The lead caster finished her inspection, nodded in satisfaction, and stepped away. "The arrancar is in complete stasis."
"Hm." The pink-clad shinigami responsible for Starrk's current predicament wandered into his line of sight, expression uncharacteristically grave as he stared into the prisoner's eyes. "Is he supposed to look so...lifeless?"
"Yes, sir. Technically all of its vital functions beyond neural cognizance have been suspended so, at the moment, it isn't alive."
"But he can still see me, right?" With a start, the primera realized that even though Kyoraku seemed to be meeting his gaze, the captain couldn't see his eyes. To him, they were just inanimate stone circles.
"His mind is still active. We are unsure if he can receive sensory input."
"I see. Thank you for your help." The shinigami bowed and scurried away at the dismissal.
"M-ah...Espada-san, it would have been better for us all if you'd simply fled when you had the chance." Kyoraku reached forward and traced the unmoving outline of Starrk's hollow-hole (and the scar bisecting it) with surprisingly gentle fingers.
If he'd been able, Starrk would have flinched and protested that the shinigami had no reason or right to sound so put-upon considering HE was the one in stone. Plus, he'd never been given the chance to flee (even though he'd offered that choice to EVERY shinigami he fought). But he wasn't able; all he could do was grumble mentally and listen.
"I wonder if you can actually hear me." Shunsui chuckled but there wasn't much humor in it. Mostly, he sounded tired and unhappy. "I don't suppose you could give me a sign...?"
No. He really couldn't.
"That's what I thought. What I wouldn't give for some sake right about now..." He stepped away and shook his head. "I wonder how Ju-chan is doing?"
Starrk had no way to halt his departure, or to ask what would happen next. Once again, all he could do was wait.
It took a while before he got any answers. More shinigami arrived with 'statues' of Harribel, her fraccion, and Grimmjow, likely the only other survivors of Aizen's army. They were all perfectly formed from white marble, captured and preserved in their resurrection forms. Grimmjow crouched with his weight on his right leg, tail lashing, arms spread, ready to lunge, while Harribel stood tall with Tiburon held out to her left and weight evenly distributed as if she was waiting for an attack. Her fraccion were similarly posed. Starrk wondered idly what position he was in; had they posed him during the petrification process? Did he look as dramatic as his fellow espada?
Once they were all gathered together, the shinigami transported them to Seireitei, lugging them on carts or carried carefully by many individuals. No one bothered to inform THEM of what was happening –maybe they thought the stasis rendered them deaf, or maybe they simply didn't care.
At some point, Starrk fell asleep, not so much closing his eyes as...fading away into his own mind. He didn't care about the slow-moving scenery passing before his eyes or the huffing and puffing noises the shinigami were making. When he 'woke up', it was to the furor of many powerful, loud shinigami. He was positioned inside a long wood-paneled room directly across from the old head-captain and between two lines of shinigami taichos. Out of the corners of his eyes, he could see that Grimmjow and Harribel were on either side of him.
"We are gathered here to discuss the fates of these arrancar, minions of Aizen." The soutaicho's gaze was not at ALL inviting and when the others turned to look at him, very few had even an inkling of sympathy in their eyes. Most were brimming with hate. Starrk had a sinking feeling this would not go well.
"Kill them."
"Nah, let 'em out! Fight 'em!"
"Don't be ridiculous, this could be a valuable research opportunity. Give them to ME and we could discover how arrancar-"
"No. We should give them a fair trial. None of them actually killed anyone..."
"Not from lack of trying. I say execute them."
"Bad idea. What if we need them in the future? We should put them in mugen with Aizen."
"Idiot! Put them with AIZEN? Are you insane?! If we're going to keep them, we should leave them in stasis."
"Feh. What, like trophies? What good are they if you can't fight 'em?"
"Trophies...yes. We won, after all. Besides, they match the scenery quite well, don't you think?"
There was a pregnant pause as everyone stared at the speaker (who Starrk could not see). It was the white haired captain (still drawn and pale from his injuries) who broke it.
"If they are still capable of thought and sensory perception that would be unbelievably cruel. Even if they aren't, it is beneath the dignity of Seireitei to treat defeated enemies so shamefully."
"You said it yourself...they are ENEMIES. They SHOULD be punished."
"I still think we should kill them."
"We should wait until a new Central 46 is chosen, and bring the matter to their attention."
"That could take DECADES. No, they're too much of a risk. We should throw them in with Aizen."
"ENOUGH!" The soutaicho slammed his cane on the floor and everyone immediately shut up. "I have made a decision. For now, the arrancar will remain as they are and will be entrusted to those of you who were responsible for their defeat. When a new Central 46 is chosen, the matter will be brought to their attention."
"Sir, what do we tell our divisions? The existence of arrancar is still classified."
"Do not reveal that they are anything other than ordinary statues. Modify them to appear as such, if you must."
"But sir...!"
"That is my FINAL decision."
No one dared protest.
"DISMISSED."
Two days later, Starrk found himself attached to a three foot tall stone pedestal mounted in the courtyard of the eighth division, staring out over the hustle and bustle of everyday activity. He was apparently at the entrance to Taicho-san's office and had a clear view of a shaded stone bench where division members waited to be called into to meet with their captain. The setting was far more interesting than Hueco Mundo, but after the first few hours he was already bored and wishing he could turn his head and change the view.
Shunsui did not speak to him after their first encounter on the battlefield, but he often sat on the bench after everyone else was gone for the day, a sake bottle clutched in his hand and a somber, faraway expression on his face. He never stayed for long.
Doing Time
With nothing to anchor his attention, Starrk quickly lost track of time. He faded in and out, sleeping as best he could and skipping days, sometimes weeks at a time. The bustle and chatter of the busy walkway were actually welcome; none of the shinigami were frightened of him - they treated him like just another piece of the scenery. He found himself privy to their conversations, musings, heartbreak, and laughter. He wasn't a part of any of it, but for once he could see how friends were supposed to act and even though it made something ache deep inside to know he would never be a part of something like that, being somewhere that people actually interacted in that manner made the eighth division feel more welcoming than Las Noches. Even as a statue, he felt better here than he ever had in Hueco Mundo.
He didn't need Lilynette to tell him how pitiful and twisted that was.
But that didn't stop her, loudly and at length. Her voice had appeared in the back of his mind mere days after he was brought to the eighth division and he was relieved to hear it, both because it meant she was alright and because she was company of a sort. Plus, she couldn't kick him while they were fused together.
More time passed and routine set in. He came to recognize the low level shinigami who regularly loitered around his pedestal. At first, their topic of conversation was often wondering who he was and why a statue had been so randomly erected. Those conversations became fewer and less interested as time went by, until eventually they petered out altogether and Starrk became just another part of the landscape. Someone planted a cherry tree on the other side of the doorway that routinely showered him with leaves, blossoms, and fruit and ivy twined around his base and legs, adding to the illusion of a statue that had been there a long time.
Maybe he had. His periods of 'sleep', which could last hours, days, weeks...maybe even months, became more common. He liked the ambiance but couldn't care less about the minutia of shinigami duties and as fewer people paid attention to him, he lost interest in their world.
The only daily constant was Taicho-san, who Starrk had come to know as Kyoraku-taicho from the lower ranked shinigami. Without fail, he would show up many hours after moonrise with his bottle of sake and sit on the bench opposite Starrk, drinking and staring at his frozen enemy, often appearing lost in thought and, to Starrk's surprise, rarely smiling. Occasionally he spoke, always TO Starrk rather than ABOUT him which was a nice change. Surprisingly, these visits actually became more common and lengthy as years passed. Both aspects of the primera came to expect and anticipate the presence of the only person who knew they were a real person rather than a chunk of stone.
Until, one day, he didn't come.
"He's not coming." Lilynette grumbled when the sun began to rise. "He's forgotten us, or thinks we're a statue now or..."
"Give him time. Maybe he'll still come."
He didn't.
Shunsui was gone for over a month and Starrk was very near giving up and contemplating attempting hibernation, when he showed up one evening, long after his normal hour.
"Hello Espada-san. I feel I must apologize for my absence." He forced a smile and set one jug of sake down at the feet of the statue before sitting down with the other. "Ju-chan needed me."
Starrk wasn't able to vocalize his question, but Shunsui responded anyway.
"You remember him, right? He was the white-haired captain you fought. He's my best friend." Shunsui swirled the sake in its jug before taking a long draw. "Jushiro's very sick. Has been for centuries, but these couple of months have been particularly bad." He smiled, more genuine this time. "But he's on the mend, now. Maybe I'll ask him to come next time, ne?"
The captain stayed all night and Jushiro did indeed come when he was feeling better. Like Shunsui, he spoke TO the statue rather than ABOUT or AT him, but he was much more vocal, talking for long periods of time whenever he came.
"Hello Espada-san." Jushiro looked up at him as if waiting for a response. Starrk would have liked to oblige, but as it was the shinigami's smile dimmed when the statue remained obviously lifeless. He sighed and walked over to where Shunsui was arranging a blanket for them to sit on, accepting a cup of tea (sake and meds don't mix) and settling back to observe the setting. If he hadn't known better, he would have thought the mounted figure was dead stone.
"How is he?"
"He's a rock." Shunsui flounced back and took a sip from the sake jug. "Honestly Ju, I don't know. I talk to him when I can, but I don't know if I'm getting through."
"There's no way to tell?"
"Nope. I even asked Kurotsuchi. He said it's quite possible Espada-san is dead or catatonic by now, but he would need to remove part of the statue to know for sure." He took a bigger gulp of sake and looked up at the stars, avoiding the third man. "I said no."
"I see." Jushiro frowned sadly. That was to say nothing of the potential insanity from being confined in such a fashion. And he couldn't help wondering what had happened to the hollow child; was she bound in there as well? Dead?
He felt horrible for prioritizing, but he was actually more worried about Shunsui than their captive(s). His friend had done what was necessary during the battle and no one faulted him for it; in fact, he was given an official commendation and celebrated for bringing down the hollow menace. Unfortunately, Shunsui was fully aware that his opponent was not evil incarnate (as the others believed) and the arrancar probably did not deserve to be cut down, and he deserved even less to be tortured and humiliated by being reduced to an object like this. Every time he passed the espada, Kyoraku was reminded of what he'd been responsible for and what he was continually participating in by keeping him outside of his office. He had taken to drinking more heavily than normal and honest smiles were few and far between.
"I'm sure it's not that bad, Shunsui. And if he CAN hear you then he knows you're doing your best."
Shunsui chuckled bitterly and looked up at the white figure. "What do you think, Espada-san? Does it help that I talk to you, or make it worse? After all, you would not be here if not for me."
Better. Starrk would have said. Infinitely better.
"And I've realized something, Ukitake."
"Hm?" Something depressing, based on his tone.
"I don't even know his name."
What! Bastard…we introduced ourselves! Starrk hushed Lilynette, but he was a little offended as well.
"I didn't listen when he introduced himself and forced myself to think of him as a hollow and an enemy during the battle. Now…he's little more than a trophy, and soon his identity will be completely forgotten."
Okay, maybe more than a little.
"Shunsui, stop it. Central 46 will come up with a verdict soon and then he'll at least be free of the kido. Then you can ask him his name."
"Mhm." He took another long draw of sake and laid back. "That's good advice."
"Besides, he didn't seem like that sort of person. Just do your best; I'm sure he'll appreciate it."
"Mhm." Shunsui shook his head, trying to banish his dour mood, and turned towards his more vocal companion. "Listen to me, acting like an old fogey! What about you Ju? How was your day?"
Ukitake was concerned but let the matter drop, trying to cheer his friend up with a recap about the most recent exploits of Kiyone and Sentaro. After long hours of talking and sharing food and drink, the two of them fell asleep under the stars and were awoken in the morning by Nanao's arrival at the office.
This, Starrk thought, is what friendship looks like.
-X-X-
Eventually, Starrk lost hope of being freed. He watched full cycles of seasons pass and the trees in the courtyard grow from saplings less than a foot tall to towering overhead. A new Central 46 was chosen within a few years but by that time the espada were old news and a non-threat so the issue of what to do with them was postponed in favor of more urgent matters. Shunsui kept him updated at first but eventually, after eleven postponements and who knew how long, the issue slipped from even his mind. But Starrk wasn't that upset…he was a patient man and a very old hollow; even the years spent as a statue so far were just a drop in the bucket. Plus, Seireitei was far more interesting than Hueco Mundo even if he couldn't move.
Starrk didn't know at what point he stopped being 'primera espada' and became 'that statue' in Kyoraku's mind, but the visual evidence and obvious lack of life were gradually convincing the other man that there was nothing of Coyote Starrk left alive in the marble figure outside his office. It bothered Lilynette far more than Starrk, but even he wanted to speak sometimes, to call out and tell them he was still there and still waiting.
Eventually, he even started feeling bad for the other man. Starrk could tell that his presence reminded the taicho of his morally-grey actions in the past and repeated exposure was wearing away his jovial mask and making him look his age. Maybe it was Stockholm Syndrome (Shunsui WAS the only one who really had a connection to him at this point. Jushiro was too far away to visit very often.) but the primera did not want Kyoraku to be in pain.
Release
Something Starrk quickly learned was that the shinigami had a LOT of enemies: bandits, Rukongai rebels, disgruntled ex-shinigami, exiles, escaped prisoners, survivors of previous wars…apparently they had a talent for pissing people off. It seemed that terrified low level shinigami were running past him to Shunsui's office every other month with reports on insurgents. Nothing as serious as the Winter War, but surprising to someone who had always assumed hollows were the Gotei 13's enemy of choice.
This particular conflict didn't seem to be anything special based on the snippets of information he overheard. Just a few bandits that managed to get their hands on better than average (for Rukongai, anyway) technology who were expressing their displeasure at being kept down by 'the man'. Shunsui didn't seem worried; exasperated and mildly amused but unfazed.
Then the first bomb went off, blasting a hole through the city's shield and revealing that they had technology capable of disrupting anchored kido spells. Shunsui and company were understandably worried by this development but to Starrk it was just a mildly interesting plot twist in a familiar story. He paid very little attention, allowing his mind to drift in disinterest.
Then a bomb went off near the seventh division and something inside of the espada LURCHED.
Starrk felt his breath catch and flexed his arm muscles, widening his eyes as he realized he could FEEL HIS CHEST AND ARMS. Though he couldn't see it, deep fissures and cracks began to form over his surface. And he wasn't the only one affected.
A second bomb hit right outside of the eleventh division almost directly on top of Grimmjow and shredded the kido containing him. Starrk knew the second that the cat's restraints failed; a bestial roar resounded through the air alongside the sound of shattering masonry. Then a familiar cyclone of blue and black energy lit up the sky; the first cero seen in Seireitei since the Winter War.
On Lilynette's urging, Starrk tried his hardest to flex his fingers, trying to force feeling back into his extremities. He couldn't quite get it…
A high pitched whistle was his only warning before something slammed through the courtyard, embedding itself in the opposite wall. As soon as it came to rest, the device let out a pulse of energy and, in response, Starrk's shell EXPLODED off, fragments reduced to dust as the kido disintegrated. He felt his reiatsu extend to fill his limbs and body once again and, like Grimmjow, he was unable to suppress the instinctive hollow roar of freedom or the urge to fire a cero into the sky.
Freedom.
The beam of bright blue ripped through the heavens, punching a giant hole in the city's shield and dwarfing the effects of the bomb blasts and Grimmjow's cero in size and energy.
-X-X-
Across the city, Shunsui was in the middle of a captain's meeting listening to Mayuri trying to defend his unapproved creation of reiatsu-nullifying explosive devices and defending the security which had obviously been ineffective. Either that, or there was a turncoat in his division; it was difficult to decide which would be worse. As soon as the first bomb hit, the captains went silent, waiting for orders.
"Dismissed!"
The first cero fired slammed into the shield not thirty seconds after the soutaicho let them go. Everyone froze, staring for a moment in incomprehension; there hadn't been hide nor hair seen of an arrancar since the Winter War. Then a very familiar, frighteningly powerful, beam of blue energy went off in the distance, in his division, drowning out the sun and turning the sky black even this far away.
Twenty years after the war, and the surviving espada were finally free.
Even as he slipped into shunpo and readied his sword, he prayed that this wouldn't end as badly as the war. He hoped they all lived to regret their negligence; three pissed off espada were a far more pressing threat than a few disgruntled bandits with stolen gadgets.
He slid to a halt in the doorway of the courtyard and paused to catch his breath and measure the situation. The statue – the prisoner – was gone as if he had never existed, not even a shard of stone to note his passing. A bulbous, awkward looking piece of metal embedded in the wall at the head of a trail of debris and destruction must be one of the bombs. Otherwise, everything was silent and still.
Shunsui stepped cautiously into courtyard, edging around the rubble with his hand on the hilt of his zanpakuto, ready for anything.
Starrk was waiting.
"Hello, Taicho-san."
He was standing in the middle of the walkway beyond the trees, hands clasped behind his head and in the process of cracking his neck. He was stretching Shunsui realized; flexing each of his muscles as if he'd just woken from a long sleep. Maybe he thought he had…
"Hello, Espada-san." Tentative. Friendly. "How are you feeling?"
He snorted and cracked his back. "Like I haven't moved in decades. How long has it been?"
Shunsui winced. "…Is that really important? I'm sure we could discuss this like civilized individuals…?"
"How long?" the primera turned and fixed him with a no-nonsense glare.
"Twenty years."
The reaction was not as intense as expected.
He blinked and sighed, then stretched again. "I thought it was at least ten, considering how many times the seasons turned, but twenty…No wonder I'm so stiff."
And that answered the other pressing question. If he'd been able to see the seasons, he'd been fully awake and aware during his captivity. His reaction was underwhelming.
"You're not upset?"
"Eh…" he shrugged. "I've had worse." At the look on his captor's face, he rolled his eyes. "I'm almost two thousand years old, Kyoraku-san, and I spent most of that time staring at sand. Twenty years isn't that long."
"I see."
Starrk watched idly as a bright yellow cero; Harribel and her fraccion; split the sky.
"Say, Espada-san…" Shunsui sidled closer. He felt like he had a connection to the other man due to how much time they'd 'spent' together. But they'd never actually interacted, so did that really count? Did the arrancar hate him for what he'd done? If that was the case, he would understand but it would certainly be depressing.
"Hm?"
"I never did find out your name."
Steel blue eyes met warm brown, both completely devoid of judgment or condemnation. They sized each other up for a minute before the younger man shrugged.
"Coyote Starrk."
Shunsui smiled and nodded, then flopped onto the ground and pulled his sake jug from the folds of his kimono. "You must be absolutely parched, Starrk-san. Care for a drink?"
The former primera shrugged and leaned against a tree. "Sure, why not?"
end.
Author's Notes:
I'm...not sure what to think about this. It seems very odd to me, but I'm not sure if it's crossed the line from creative-odd to disturbing-and-or-weird-odd. I don't even know where this came from, but for some reason I couldn't get that stupid song from 'Don't hug me I'm scared' out of my head while I was commenting on it.
I hope you liked it & please let me know what you think! (And tell me what end of the spectrum you think I'm on. I'd really like to know that.)
See you in the comments! :)